


We'll Survive Together

by Rk800downloading



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Canon: Resident Evil 2 Remake (Video Game 2019), Conspiracy, Dark, F/M, Fluff, Horror, Kiss Kiss Fall in Love, Monsters, Reader-Insert, SERIOUSLY ALL THE FLUFF, Slow Burn, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2019-10-31 07:56:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rk800downloading/pseuds/Rk800downloading
Summary: Leon finds you injured and alone inside the Raccoon City Police Department. Together, you work alongside the rookie cop in hopes of escaping this doomed city.Following Resident Evil 2 Remake, Leon Route B.





	1. Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Gonna try my hand at an RE2 fic since I'm obsessed with this game (and Leon, hehe), so this is a small intro chapter. Please let me know if you'd like to see more chapters/continue reading. Thank you!

“Oh, God…” You whispered, clutching a gun against your chest. You didn’t know how to use it, you didn’t know how to protect yourself—but you couldn’t become one of _those_ things—those mindless husks of Raccoon city, wearing the faces of people you used to know.  

Memories of your friends resurfaced—their frantic snarls, the sound and smell of ripping flesh.

You were apart of a special group; a group of bio chem students recruited by Umbrella Pharmaceuticals for an internship. For a week straight, you studied in one of their small, underground labs. They had provided everything—food, housing arrangements, entertainment—and so you greedily spent the opportunity learning all that you could. There hadn't been a need to go outside.

Your ignorance was bliss.

A mere four hours ago, you were startled awake from a nap. Screaming echoed through the hallways, lights flickered, breaking glass reverberated off the walls. You opened your door, greeted to the sight of an animalistic figure ravaging through blood and torn limbs.

_Zombie._

That’s the only word you could think of to describe _it._

In a daze you stood, watching—unable to speak, unable to breathe. And then the figure’s eyes landed on you, muscle hanging from its bones and red teeth. 

You ran.

You didn’t stop to grab anything, you only ran, up the stairs and through the back door. The city was on fire. Buildings were collapsed, and cars turned over. The smell of burning rubber and skin stung your nose. You continued to run as more _zombies_ swarmed, navigating your childhood streets in search of the safest place you knew— _the police department._

But when you reached the precinct, you realized you couldn’t have been anymore _wrong._ You scrambled inside as zombies chased you, fumbling the door’s handles and stepping on glass—crying out as it pierced your slippers and your foot. Unable to walk, you crawled under a nearby shutter, pulling yourself towards a place to hide.

And that’s how you ended up _here,_ tucked away inside a cabinet. Thankfully, a small pistol had been stashed away in its back corner. You had only three bullets—maybe you could escape and find more. But how far could you get now that you couldn’t run?

Could you even escape the city?

With a mixture of blood loss and the adrenaline leaving your body, you began nodding off. It had been quiet for a while—no groaning, or shuffling of feet. _How long have I been in here?_ You thought to yourself. _Maybe I'll die here-_

_Maybe this is just all a dream-_

Suddenly, the cabinet door swung open and a blinding light filled your vision.

“Hey!” A voice called out. “Are you okay?”

You blinked hard, shaking free of your stupor. In front of you was a man in a police uniform—in front of you was a _human!_

You nodded vigorously, overcome with relief, too overcome for words. 

“Good.” The man smiled, extending a hand. “Let’s get you out of there.”

You attempted to stand, hesitating as pain shot up your leg. He watched as your face twisted in distress—shinning his flashlight over your foot, revealing a bloody mess of skin, glass and slipper. “That looks bad.”

“It feels worse than it looks.” You managed to speak. "I don't think I can walk."

“I believe you.” He turned around, crouching. “Get on my back, I’ll carry you to the main hall—We can try to bandage you up there.”

“Is that really ok-"

“Hey.” He interrupted, turning to look at you. “I’m not leaving you behind.”

You stared into his blue eyes as they searched you. Somehow, you knew he wasn’t lying.

“Okay.” You muttered softly, reaching your arms around his neck while he grabbed your legs and hoisted you up. Even though he was covered in blood, he smelt faintly of shampoo.

You rested your head against his back, listening to the sound of his heartbeat as he walked. Tears began to fill your vision as it dawned on you that _this_ wasn’t a dream. Monsters filled the city—your friends were dead, your family was probably dead. Everything you had come to live for was gone-

“I don’t usually recommend pajamas and slippers as zombie-escaping gear.”

His voice tore you from your dark thoughts.

"Your outfit." He looked back, a grin across his face.

"Oh!" You laughed despite how you felt. “I didn’t have time to change.”

“I came with a change of clothes, if you want to use them.”

You looked down at your tattered sleep wear. This man made you want to move forward.

You wanted to survive for all those who hadn't. 

You wanted to  _live._

Your arms tightened closer around him. "I think I'll have to take you up on that."

Turning a corner, you were greeted by the warm lights of the main hall. He walked over to what appeared to be a first aid station, setting you down on a bench, tending to your foot.

“Leon Kennedy.” He said, a smile forming on his lips.

You flinched as he used disinfectant. “Huh?”

“My name.” The man looked up, his blue eyes crinkled in amusement. “And yours?”

 


	2. Even Cops Get Scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you guys are enjoying/want to keep reading! Thank you!
> 
> For the sake of time management, I didn't make them develop the lion photo :D

“Sorry.” Leon walked over, placing a pile of neatly stacked clothes next to you. “My clothes are definitely going to be too big. At least I managed to find some police boots that looked about your size.”

You gestured towards the thin material of your haggard pajamas. “Anything will be better than this.”

“True.” He laughed. “Um, so should I leave or-”

“Can you just turn around? I don’t want to be left alone.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure.” He quickly spun on his heel, keeping himself preoccupied by maintaining his gun. “So how did you end up here? In Raccoon City…”

You began switching into his clothes, unfolding a pair of light jeans, a navy button up and a black windbreaker. “I’m a student at Raccoon University. Umbrella gave me an internship and for the past week I’ve been studying underground. I had no idea that- _Ow_!”

“Hey! Are you okay?” Leon rushed to help you, pausing as he took in the sight of your shirt over your head. He swiftly faced the other way, blush across his face and ear tips. “I am so sorry.”

“Don't worry about it.” You chuckled. “I hit my foot while I was changing.”

“You were underground for a week?” He cleared his throat, hastily changing the subject.

“Yes, and no one even said anything to us about what was going on in the city—I _still_ don’t know what happened, why there are zombies...”

“Me either, to be honest. I just got here myself.”

You finished putting on the jeans, cuffing their length. “Wait, so you’re not a cop then?”

“I am.” He let out a soft sigh. “Today was officially my first day.”

“That’s rough.” You placed a hand on his arm, giving a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

Leon looked down at your hand, offering a warm smile in return. “Yeah, well, I’ll be happy when we get out of here.”

“Speaking of getting out of here, got any leads?”

“Check this out.” He pulled out a torn page, covered in drawings. “This might have something to do with the statues around here.”

You took a closer look, noticing a familiar lion statue—the same statue just up the stairs. You began limping towards it, quickly caught off guard by Leon’s arm around your waist.

“You wanna go up the stairs?” He asked innocently, grabbing your arm and slinging it around his neck.

You managed a small embarrassed nod, letting the cop support your weight. “I think these symbols in the drawing might be a clue.”

He helped you, watching as you switched the spinning panels in the statue’s relief. _Crown, Flame, Bird_ —and then the grinding of stone echoed the hall. A medallion featuring a lion had fallen from the statue’s shield.

“ _Jesus._ ” Leon exclaimed, excitedly heading back to the largest statue in the room—a goddess holding up a flag with three circular indents at the base of her dress. He inserted the medallion, and as if it was magic, the base transformed, barely revealing a secret room behind bars.

“Is this the way out?” You looked hurriedly to the page and back to the statue. “Then we only need two more!”

“It's worth a shot. I think I know where the other statues are too.” He started to walk, halting as he looked down at your injury. “Do you wanna stay here? I’d like it if you came with me but if it’s too hard on you-”

“I want to go.” You replied immediately.

Leon frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I’ve got _real_ clothes now. I’m good.”

He chuckled, putting his arm back around you. “Lets go.”

 

 

The two of you explored all of the west precinct—collecting weapons, ammunition, medicinal supplies, and keys. You learned that he was only 21, the same age as you. He had driven to the city after being told to keep away, and at a gas station in the city’s outskirts he had met another human named Claire Redfield. They arrived together, but had been separated by a truck that had gone out of control.

“Did she make it to the police station okay?”

“She did. I saw her in the courtyard not too long ago.” Leon pushed open a door, pausing as he revealed a dark, rain and blood drenched hallway. He took his arm from your waist and placed both hands firmly around his gun. “I don’t like the looks of this.”

The wind howled violently as he took a step in, and then a large figure loomed in the distance.

The stomping of heavy boots echoed the floor, growing closer and closer—until you saw a _giant_ , dressed in a trench coat and approaching with speed. Leon pushed you out of the way as the giant threw a punch—the force of its hand breaking a hole into the wall instead.

He aimed his gun for the giant’s head, pulling the trigger and firing three shots, but the monster was unfazed. Its emotionless expression simply turned towards you, pulling back its arm to attempt another punch.

You barely managed to scramble out of the way as the fist flew past, and this time, Leon sprinted for you, picking you up and running to the closest room—a room reading _S.T.A.R.S Office_ on its name plaque. He slammed the door shut, and the both of you pressed your weight against the door to keep the monster out.

For what felt like an eternity, you could hear the clacking of the giant’s shoes pacing around the hallway. You expected it to try barging in the door, but instead, the stomping grew dim—and then you couldn’t hear anything at all.

“What the hell was that..?” Leon collapsed to the floor, panting.

The giant was huge, maybe 8 feet tall—Its skin was grey and warped. It had two arms, two legs, a torso and a head—it had a _human_ figure.

“It shattered the concrete wall in a single punch.” You sat down next to the cop. “And your gun didn’t even scratch it…”

"I know." He sighed, resting an elbow against his knee. “ _Fuck._ "

“Hey! That’s the first time I’ve heard you swear.” You suddenly beamed, and Leon's frown quickly faded into a laugh.

He shook his head dubiously. “What? Are you serious?”

You laughed too, amused by his dumbfounded expression. “I was just thinking that for all I’ve seen you go through in the past hour or so, you don’t swear nearly enough.”

“ _Pfft._ I swear all the time, you just aren’t listening.”

“I listen attentively to everything you say.”

“Is that so?”

The dark atmosphere of the giant had lifted as you both laughed. You laid back against the floor, staring up at the ceiling as you regained your breath, and after a few minutes, Leon joined you.

“Are you okay?” He broke the silence.

“I am, thanks to you.” You turned your head towards him. “I would have been dead if you didn’t push me out of the way.”

“Yeah.” His voice was soft. “I was really scared when I saw it go to punch you.”

“Scared?”

He turned to face you. “Of course. Even cops get scared.”

You felt a blush creep across your face as you admired his handsome features—and to hide it, you turned your gaze back towards the ceiling. “I’m really glad I met you.” You admitted.

You could see Leon smile from the corner of your eye.

“Me too.”


	3. A Human You Knew

You and Leon managed to successfully retrieve the last two medallions, carefully avoiding the loud stomping of the giant man-like monster. You had arrived back at the main hall—hurrying to open the secret path and escape the monster for good. With each _click_ of the medallions, the hidden room became more and more visible, eventually revealing an office. It was small—seemingly holding just a desk and books, but around a sharp corner, it was connected to an elevator. You looked at it intensely, trying to find if there was any indication of where it would send you, but you found nothing.

Leon leaned against the wall as he watched you. “Hope you’re not claustrophobic.”

“We’re taking this thing?” You grimaced.

“Unfortunately we don’t have much of a choice.” He frowned. “Whoever made the statue drawings seemed to think this was the only way out.”

You looked back to elevator, growing nervous at its olden style mechanics and flimsy gates. “I’m not claustrophobic, but this looks sketchy.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Not even in this creepy moving box of death?”

Leon laughed. “Not even in the creepy moving box of death.”

You sighed, pressing the elevator button. To your surprise, it responded automatically—the gate effortlessly slid back, revealing a polished and lit car.

“See? It’s not that bad.” Leon walked in first, holding out his hand.

You sighed again, louder this time—letting Leon’s fingers wrap around your own as he pulled you into the elevator. He pressed the only button available, and within seconds, the gate was already opening to let you out.

The cop held up his flashlight, exposing a concrete staircase. A nearby handrail directed your eyes to narrow steps heading down—and without any other choices, that was where you ventured. After a few flights of stairs, you came across a passage leading to a corridor; steam and light wafted from it, but something else—something _moving_ _—_ caught your attention.

Leon saw it too. “What the-”

A loud clashing of metals resounded throughout the hall, followed by a voice. You couldn’t make out what the voice was saying, but it didn’t sound like a zombie _—_ it sounded like someone in pain.

You wearily glanced to Leon and he gave you a confident nod back. You had to keep moving forward.

The corridor led to a walkway above a large expanse, full of dull grey machinery and pipes barely illuminated by lights far overhead. Leon looked hardly interested, he had already begun to dislodge a fallen cabinet blocking the path forward—grunting angrily as he tried to move its heavy weight. You moved beside him, bracing yourself and offering whatever feeble strength your arms could manage.

The cabinet finally snapped into place and Leon mouthed a silent _thanks_ as he regained his breath, but as you stepped into the new room, a monster jumped before you.

The monster’s shoulder pulsed in your face. It was a mangled mess of muscle, flesh and bone all curled around a hulking bloodied eye. The eye wept, spewing pus as it twitched—looking at Leon, and then at you.

Its inhuman arm swung forward, grabbing you by the shirt and slamming you into the grate of the suspended path. You couldn’t breathe, you could only scratch at the monster as it picked you up and slammed you down again—this time, the walkway collapsing beneath.

You had fallen to the room below, just barely able to hear Leon shouting your name through gunshots—but the monster didn’t seem to care about what he was doing. You opened your eyes to see the monster still coming for you.

You struggled to get up, unable to escape as the monster grabbed you again. You could feel its skin sticking to yours as it squeezed tighter—the smell of blood and rot overcoming you as its face reached closer.

But then you noticed.

The monstrous growth was attached to a human—a human you _knew._

“Take this you son of a bitch!” Leon jumped from behind, plunging his knife deep into the pupil of the eye. He dug it as far as he could, his hand becoming absorbed by its fluids. He jerked his wrist, twisting and shattering whatever the knife’s blade could reach—and then the monster dropped you, screaming out in pain as it staggered back, falling into a black abyss of machinery.

You fell against the floor with a loud _thud_ , clutching your chest and gasping for air.

“Hey!” Leon rushed over, grabbing your body and taking it into his arms. “Talk to me!”

“I- I know that man.” You managed to mutter through unsteady breaths, unable to tear your attention away from the ledge where he fell.

The cop gently cupped your bruised cheek, bringing your gaze to meet his instead. His blue eyes looked into yours, worried— _nervous_. "You know him?"

“His face-" You hesitated. That  _thing_ was a monster, but it had  _his_ face—there was no mistaking it. "That man was William Birkin. He was the one from Umbrella who gave me the internship-”

A ladder suddenly dropped down, its clatter echoing the room and interrupting your thoughts.

Leon broke eye contact first, looking up from where it fell. A crease formed between his brows. “Somebody’s watching us…”

"Then we'd better get out of here." You whispered. Not realizing how much strength you had lost, you attempted to stand and failed—falling back down and against Leon, who seemed to be anticipating it.

He resumed what was now natural—his hand around your waist, and your arm around his neck. “When we get somewhere safer, will you tell me more about this Birkin guy?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”


	4. Two Kids With Guns

Leon helped you up the ladder, and across more suspended walkways. At the end of them was a small work room; it was dimly lit, furnished with a simple desk, lockers, and more machinery you knew nothing about. The cop walked inside first, carefully surveying the surroundings before setting you down on a chair and propping himself on the edge of the desk.

“So,” he leaned forward, giving you all his attention. “You knew that monster?”

You folded your hands in your lap, staring at them as you tried to make sense of everything. “Yes. I don't know much, but that was the man who offered and funded the internship I was given. I think he was one of Umbrella’s main researchers.”

“He wasn’t a normal zombie.” Leon shook his head. “He was still half human...”

“It’s like-” You paused for a moment—excitedly clasping Leon’s thigh as an idea hit you. “It’s like his arm had mutated!”

He looked down at your hands and back to you. “Mutated?”

“Yes!” You nodded enthusiastically. “Birkin had us research mutations while in the lab, just simple ones though, induced mutations on yeast cells—like visble masses of growth or increased fitness. I hope its not connected."

The cop sighed. “I wonder if we'll run into him anytime soon.”

You looked back to the expanse where he fell, still feeling the pain of his encounter in your bones. "As curious as I am, I hope we don't."

"Me too." Leon grinned, giving you a small pat on the back. He hoisted himself off the desk, walking over and examining a nearby ladder. “I’m gonna quickly check where this leads, wait here.”

"Sure." You playfully scoffed, gesturing down to your injuries. “Like I can get anywhere without you.”

“Very funny.” He called back, his voice echoing across the concrete. One by one, the sound of his boots rang against the ladder’s bars—abruptly stopping and becoming replaced by the bellow of grinding metal.

Just as fast as he had climbed up, he came back down—a smile wide across his face. "I think I found the way out."

 

 

Together, you hastily ascended the ladder, greeted by the sight of an underground parking garage; it was full of cars and barricades, but something different had caught the cop’s eye—a brightly lit exit sign hung above the parkade's gate. Leon escorted you over, fiddling with the gate’s control console and sighing when he discovered it required a key card to open.

“Damn.” He mumbled, giving the machine's side a smack. He turned to face you—waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and freezing as they did.

"Leon?" You questioned hesitantly.

He slowly raised his gun, locking his arms into a firing position. “You gotta be kidding me…”

You looked to where his gaze was fixed and saw a blur. A beast you hadn't seen before leapt forward, snarling with a set of blood soaked fangs. Leon moved you from its path as it charged, crying out in surprise as the dog-like monster pounced on him and sent his gun flying.

“Get off me!” He shouted, holding the maggot-infested animal back as it tried to bite into his neck. He desperately reached for his gun—hands only finding the concrete around him.

You remembered the gun from the cabinet and clumsily pulled it from your pocket, fumbling the safety like you had seen in videos and placing your finger on the trigger. You aimed for the monster’s head, scared of how close it was to Leon’s—but you had to shoot, you had to save him!

" _Fuck!_ " You screamed, pulling a trigger you thought you'd never have to touch. The recoil was stronger than you had anticipated, rocking your shoulders back and jolting your entire body—but the beast fell in return, organs splattering from its wound as it collapsed.

" _Hey_." An unknown voice called out before you could catch your breath. " _Stay sharp_."

Leon reacted instantly to the warning—swiftly grabbing his pistol and firing another shot into the reanimating creature.

"Who's there?!" He called out.

A slender figure appeared from the shadows—a woman, concealed behind a long jacket and sunglasses. The click of her heels grew closer, revealing a gun pointed at the cop.

“FBI.” She said coolly, flashing her ID. The woman quickly switched her aim to the beast, firing, and snuffing out any last chances of revival. “Put down your guns.”

You did as instructed, following Leon as he holstered his. “Thank you,” he looked down at the monster once more, “for your help-”

“Two kids with guns? Surprised you made it this far.” The woman crossed her arms.

Leon glared, ignoring her comment as she had ignored his. “FBI, huh? What’s going on here?”

“Sorry, that information’s classified.” She begun walking away, glancing at you and then glancing again. She came to an immediate halt, lowering her glasses and peering into your eyes. “You’re from the project…”

“What are you talking about?” You flinched back from her gaze.

"Do yourselves a favor." She leaned in close, pursing her lips and ending the conversation. “Stop asking questions and get the hell out of here.”

You stared in confusion as the woman turned—the sound of her heels disappearing behind a door in the back of the lot. You were worried by what she said.  _What did she mean by the 'project'? Was she talking about the Umbrella internship?_

_It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the appearance of William Birkin, right?_

“We have to go after her.” You began limping in pursuit, stopping as Leon suddenly stood in your path.

He silently grabbed your arm, pulling you against his body and into a gentle hug. 

“I know we have to go, but just quickly... Thank you for saving my life.” He whispered before you could say anything. 

“What?” You murmured awkwardly as a ferocious blush spread across your face. "But you've already saved mine so many times since we've met!"

He gave a small squeeze before letting go. “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. I know you were terrified to fire that gun.”

“It wasn't nearly as terrifying as the thought of something bad happening to you.” You confessed quietly.

Leon held your hand, leading you to the door where the mysterious woman vanished. He looked at the cuts and bruises canvassed across your skin.

“I know the feeling."


	5. Deal's On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being a long chapter, I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! :)

Metals gates lined one after another, locked tight and keeping its imprisoned zombie convicts far from reach. You continued walking past, just able to make out the faces of the undead and watching as they mindlessly scrambled to grab you. A common characteristic of the monsters was pale skin and pale eyes, which you guessed was due to lack of blood flow. Their mouths hung open, unable to do anything other than groan—and when you studied closely, you could see that their insides appeared to be just as rotten as their outside flesh.

“Don’t look.” Leon pulled you closer.

“I wonder how they’re moving.” A puzzled expression spread across your face. “Their muscles shouldn’t be able to contract without proper organ function…”

“You’re examining them?”

“Well-” You pouted. “ _Yeah_.”

He chuckled. “I guess that’s the scientist in you speaking.”

“Hello?” A voice called out, bringing your gaze to the only lit cell in the prison.

Behind the locked gate was a man in glasses, dressed in clean clothes and seemingly unscathed. He sauntered over, perching an arm against the bars as he smiled. “I don’t believe it! Real humans. Are we the last ones alive?”

Leon cautiously holstered his gun. “No, there’s a few of us…”

“Oh, that’s good news.” He breathed out a sigh of relief and then suddenly hesitated. “Unless, of course, Irons sent you.”

The cop’s eyes grew wide. “Irons? You mean Chief Irons? Is he still around?”

“Who cares?” His smile faded. “Hopefully he’s somebody’s dinner by now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, he’s the bastard that locked me in here!”

Leon scoffed. “I’m sure he had a good reason.”

“He did.” The man took a long drag of his cigarette—flicking it to the ground and grinding it into ash. “I was about to blow the whistle on his dirty ass. I’d have done the same thing too, I guess.”

The groan of scraping metal abruptly rang from the distance, turning your head and drawing your attention.

The imprisoned man grew franic at the sound. “Hey! I’ll make you a deal—unlock this cell and I’ll give you _this._ ” He desperately searched in his jacket, pulling out a lanyard containing a card.

You looked closer, reading the words _‘parking permit’_ in bold.

“There’s no other way outta that parking garage! Believe me.”

Leon clenched his jaw. “Sorry… I can’t-”

“Shit. It’s coming.” The man backed himself against the wall, wildly shaking the permit as the scraping grew louder. “C-mon’, don’t be an asshole! You _need_ this!”

The sound became so clear that you could hear something else—something _familiar_ alongside it.

It was the stomping of heavy metal boots.

“Just get me the fuck outta here!” He screamed as the wall exploded behind him. A giant hand reached out, wrapping its fingers around his skull and lifting. It dragged the man up and through the brick, taking a moment to let his legs dangle before disfiguring his head in a single squeeze.

“Oh, my god…” You clutched onto Leon’s vest, thankful for the gate that separated you. The man landed with a hard _thud_ as the hand let go—his eyes hanging from their broken sockets, and jaw displaced beyond its will. As quickly as the man and the giant had appeared, they were now both gone.

You were too busy staring in disbelief to notice the other footsteps approaching—but Leon spun, pushing you behind him as he swiftly drew his gun. “Who is that?!”

“It’s just me, so you can put that thing away.”

You recognized the voice as she walked closer—and so did Leon, lowering his weapon. It was the woman you wanted to question, the woman from the parking garage.

“I don’t even know what happened-” Leon muttered worriedly. “It just… Happened so quick.”

The woman looked at the fresh corpse, turning and glaring at the cop through her sunglasses. “I told you to get out of here. You wouldn’t want to end up like Ben, would you?”

“Ben?” You spoke up. “You knew him?”

She let out a sharp breath. “He was an informant. Had information of use to my investigation.”

“So what he said about Irons was true?” Leon asked—becoming annoyed as the woman turned away before he could finish. “Hey!" He grabbed her arm. "You can’t keep walking away from us!” 

She instantly snapped away from his reach, offense clear across her unhidden features.

“We don’t even know your name!” Leon exasperated, dropping his hands to his sides. He let out a long exhale, easing his tone as he introduced you, and then himself—expecting her to do the same.

The woman let out a smirk in response, cocking her hip and nodding to the jailed permit. “Find a way out, before it’s too late—then we’ll talk. Name’s Ada.”

Just as in the parking garage, she turned—disappearing before you could ask any more questions. Ada had left you and Leon with an important task, and without it, there was no hope she would cooperate in the future.

“Well, I guess the deal’s on.” The cop peered at the card around Ben’s neck. Wasting no time, he grasped one of the bars, grunting as he pulled with all his strength—sighing in defeat as the gate refused to budge.

“And _I_ guess my question for Ada will have to wait.” You sat on a nearby desk, trying to push back your impatience with the woman. “Does the cell need a key or is it electronic?”

“Electronic, I think.” He stopped fidgeting with the bars, and began examining the panel next to them instead.  

You stood, watching over his shoulder as he aimlessly muddled with its components—laughing to yourself at how clueless he seemed. “Here, let me try it.”

“You know how to work this thing?”

“ _Probably_.”

He moved aside. “What would I do without you?”

“Get eaten by zombie dogs.” You gave a smart-assed grin before focusing on the power panel. Careful not to electrocute yourself, you borrowed one of Leon’s gloves—discovering that it was a rather simple mechanism; two electrical sources were needed to power the gate’s receiver, and all you had to do was complete the circuit that connected them. “Its missing some pieces. Don’t suppose you have any conductors, huh?”

The cop patted his pockets, producing only car keys and a pack of gum. “Sorry, but this is all I’ve got.”

Your eyes lit up at the sight of the gum, quickly grabbing it and letting out an excited _‘yes’_ when you saw its packaging.

“Big gum fan?” Leon joked.

“The foil backing!” You cracked out two pieces, one for you and one for Leon. “Aluminum foil is a good conductor of electricity.”

“I am happy that my gum could have been of some service to you, ma’am.” He grabbed a piece and popped it into his mouth.

“Don't get too excited yet,” you buckled down, studying the panel further. “Let’s just see if I can make this work first.”

 

You tinkered with the device for a few minutes, taking a short break to rest your arms. You stole a glance of the cop—quietly admiring as he deftly maintained his gun, pulling it apart and putting it together. Without realizing, your gaze had wandered across his body and admired that too—appreciating how he filled out his uniform, and how his dirty blonde hair hung over his face. You gulped, forcing your mouth not to gape open at the sight—but then the cop looked up, his blue eyes catching you.

Your heart began to race.

You wanted to know more about him.

“Hey-”

“I was-”

You both laughed as you perfectly interrupted each other.  

“What were you going to say?” Leon leaned back against the wall.

You mustered the strength to finally look away and continued working on the circuit—rolling foil into small, wire-like pieces and fixing them into the structure. “Can you tell me about yourself?”

“Really?” Surprise was clear in his voice. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything.”

“ _Anything_?” He let out a huff of air. “Okay, so, my full name is Leon Scott Kennedy, and I’m cop—I guess you know that. Lets see, uh, I’m blood type A.”

You chuckled. “Do you have family? Pets?”

“Yes, and yes. Although we’re not close—I joined the academy right after graduating.”

“What kind of pet?”

“A retired police dog. My dad was a cop, too.”

You managed to get one line of power running, and began working on the last. You took a deep breath. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No,” he replied softly. “I never was good at talking to girls.”

You whipped around to face him. “Am I not a girl?”

“But you’re different.” He smiled.

“ _Uh-huh_.” You gave a fake frown and turned back, feeling an unknown sense of relief. “Anyways, what were you going to ask?”

“I wanted to know if you-”

A loud _buzz_ sounded from the gate as you positioned the last foil. The bars automatically slid back, leaving the parking permit easily within reach—the gum package had worked.

“You’re amazing!” Leon pushed off the wall, giving your shoulder a quick squeeze before running in to grab the card. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

He knelt before Ben, ready to remove the lanyard—but something else caught his eye. He paused.

“What’s wrong?” You limped in after.

He slowly reached into the corpse’s pocket, holding up a small tape recorder. “Is this the information Ada was looking for?”

“I don't know, wanna find out?” You stretched over him, pressing down on the play button. The sound of static rang out from device, violently crackling and fizzing—eventually giving way to a voice, to Ben's voice.

_“‘...but that doesn’t explain the rumors about the orphanage. I just find it way too coincidental Umbrella’s one of the benefactors.’_

_‘You told me this interview was about the new scholarship Umbrella set up.’”_ A woman replied.

_“‘Come on, Annette. Nobody cares about this. They want to know about the G-Virus, and the-’_

_‘Where did you hear about this?’_

_‘-and that big fucking sinkhole in the city which, by the way, rumor has it goes straight to your underground lab._

_‘This interview-.’_

_‘What about those university students you selected for their genes? The project to use them as G-Virus breeding tools-’_

_‘This interview is over.’”_

 

More static.

 

_“‘Bitch.’”_

 


	6. To Escape Umbrella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no Kendo gun shop scene :( please enjoy its replacement tho

* * *

_‘What about those university students you selected for their genes? The project to use them as G-Virus breeding tools-’_

The words replayed in your head and a sick feeling pooled in your gut—you were a project, an experiment, expendable. You were probably supposed to be dead.

Leon seemed to understand, gently rubbing your back as if to say _it’s okay._ “We’ll figure out the truth.” He said instead. “I won’t let anything happen to you, remember?”

Suddenly, a red light ignited the prison—followed by the same loud buzz you had heard just mere minutes ago.

You looked to Leon in panic.

The panel you fixed must have powered _all of the gates_ —every single cell was opening, and you couldn’t even recall how many zombies you had seen locked away.

“That’s not good.” The cop grabbed you forcefully, putting away his pistol and drawing the shotgun from his back. “I’m sorry, but, we need to go now.”

You nodded. “I know.”

Leon blasted the monsters emerging from their cells, while you desperately limped after—using your own small pistol to take out the few coming from behind. He sprinted forward as six swarmed—pulling a flash grenade from his belt and gripping its safety pin between his teeth.

He rolled it under their legs. “Close your eyes!”

You did as instructed, only opening them after the high pitched scream of the grenade's blast. Leon immediately took action, ramming the stunned zombies into the ground with his shoulder while you ran as hard as you could to keep up. He hurdled through the door—blown back by a fist erupting through the wall beside him; it was the same hand that killed Ben—the giant from the precinct.

You rushed to help, abruptly cut off as the monster walked through the brick, lunging for your throat. It wrapped its fingers around your neck, squeezing and strangling—lifting you off the ground before you could grab your gun.

Just as your vision began to fade, headlights filled the garage with light. Tires squealed against the pavement, driving a SWAT truck forward into the giant—freeing you from its grasp, and dropping you to the floor. The smoke of burning rubber bellowed as its wheels continued to spin—finally stopping once the monster had become buried, embedded deep into the rubble of the wall.

You clutched at your throat, frantically searching for air, greedily inhaling as you found it. Leon hurried to your side, pulling your head onto his lap and bringing the SWAT truck into vision. Its door opened.

“Ada?” You coughed, managing to sit up.

The woman stepped out, heels clacking as she walked past. “Saving your asses—don’t count on it a second time.”

“You’re gonna start keeping score?” Leon gave a weak scoff as he made sure you were okay, bringing you away from the truck.

Ada spun around angrily. “This isn’t a game!”

“Guys-” You interrupted, pointing to the vehicle as it jostled. Around its front you could see the giant’s hands curled into the hood and pushing forward—it was attempting to free itself.

Although you had begun to worry, the woman simply pulled a device from her jacket—pressing down a button on its side. She shook her head. “Nothing dies down here.”

The truck exploded into flames, sending pieces of its metal across the parkade—through the fire and shrapnel, you couldn’t see the monster anymore.

“A radio-controlled bomb?” You looked in disbelief to the antennaed device in Ada’s hands.

“Perhaps.” She crossed her arms. “I take it you have the keycard?”

Leon sighed reluctantly, reaching into his pocket and producing the tape recorder from Ben’s corpse. “Yeah, and this.” He tossed it to her. “Really hoping you can explain.”

“Maybe after I hear it.” Ada carefully examined the cassette. “Let’s get out of here first.”

 

The cop fed the permit into the garage's console, letting out a held breath as it was accepted. The gate began to lift, and you eagerly limped out.

The city had only gotten worse since you last saw it.

Rain poured over the dark and abandoned place you once called home; bullet casings littered the sidewalks and flipped-over cars littered the streets. The limbs of humans, zombies—you couldn’t tell the difference anymore—were scattered among the trash, accumulating in piles as if they belonged there. You tried not to think about what happened to the people you knew.

Ada hung back, listening to the tape, while Leon approached—an apologetic look across his face.

“I’m sorry I let that monster hurt you.” He whispered, and you frowned.

“You didn’t _let_ it, you got hurt too.”

“That’s not-” His voice grew serious. “I became a cop so I could protect people—I want to protect you.”

“You’ve protected me since the moment we met.”

He was unconvinced. “That doesn’t matter-”

“It matters to me.” You grinned, giving his arm a tender squeeze. “I wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t.”

Leon’s eyes fixated on you, searching your words, searching you. He shook his head—gaze softening as his jaw unclenched. “Yeah.” He grinned back. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” You joked.

“I dunno about that.”

“How rude!”

He laughed. “I’m _also_ sorry my jacket isn’t warm enough—your hands,” he gestured towards them. “They’re freezing.”

You looked down at the black windbreaker, reminiscing of when it smelt like Leon’s shampoo. “I like it though.”

“I wanted to tell you when you first put it on—it suits you.”

“It suits me? What do you mean?”

The rain slid down Leon’s face, dampening his hair and cleaning the grime from his skin. Red droplets formed beneath a gash on his brow, and you reached up to wipe it—gingerly running your thumb over his eyelid and across his lashes.

“I mean," he grabbed your wrist. "I like the way you look in my clothes.”

You froze as he stared at you—the feeling of his fingers different than all the times before.

“Sorry to interrupt lovebirds, but the road's out.” You quickly looked back to see Ada waiting, hand on her hip. “We’ll need to go though the gun shop.”

The cop gave a regretful smile, letting go and shyly rubbing the back of his neck. He turned to the impatient woman. “Was that the intel you needed?”

“Unfortunately, no.” She tried the shop’s handle, and then knelt to lock pick it. “Ben didn’t come through.”

“Well, what exactly are you looking for?”

With a sharp twist of her wrist and a _click,_ the door opened. “For more info on the people responsible for this mess.”

You walked inside the gun shop, shaking away the heat from your cheeks. Leon had begun to scavenge for ammunition and you decided to focus on the situation, too.

“So,” you picked up a box of shotgun shells, stuffing them into the cop’s side pouch. “What’s the G-Virus? What did Ben mean by the project—the _‘breeding tools’_?”

Ada crossed her arms. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Of course.” You followed her as she walked through the store and out the backdoor. “I need to know.”

“Umbrella, the pharmaceutical company that gave you the internship—they’ve been secretly making bioweapons.” The woman nimbly ventured the backstreets of the city as she talked, while you and Leon followed close behind.

“They have two strains of viruses.” She continued. “The T-Virus that turns people into mindless zombies, and the G-Virus that turns people into indestructible monsters.”

Leon helped you down a small ledge. “Explains the horrible things we’ve seen…”

“That’s why I’m looking for Annette Birkin, one of Umbrella’s head virologists—and one of the developers of G.” Ada finally stopped. “This is how we get to her. According to HQ, this leads straight to Umbrella’s secret facility."

She stood before an open awning of rusted metal, crusted in filth and sludge. It led underground—the smell of rotten food mixed with shit wafting from its entrance. You wanted to gag.

The cop walked in first, illuminating the dirtied path with his flashlight. “Come on. The sewers are run by the city. How could Umbrella have a facility without the authorities knowing?”

“Welcome to corporate America.” She smirked. “Umbrella’s controlled Raccoon City for years.”

You recalled Ben’s tape and Ada's words. “Annette Birkin is the same 'Annette' from the interview, right? Is she connected to that monster—to William?"

“So you’ve seen what G can do, then.” The woman’s heels echoed the tunnel. "Annette is William's wife."

“That makes even less sense. Why would _he_ be infected with the virus his wife helped created?"

“To escape Umbrella.” She replied nonchalantly, and you stalled.

“What?”

The rocks by your feet began to jump as the ground vibrated—a loud groan shook the entirety of the sewer.

“Jesus,” Leon brushed dirt off his shoulders. “That an earthquake?”

Ada started to walk faster. “I sure as hell hope so.”


	7. The Fleeing Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting, and for all your comments and kudos! Veeeerrry excited for next chapter >:3

The rumbling continued as you walked down the path; Ada calmly glanced around, and Leon charged ahead, lighting the sewers’ nooks and crannies. Just as you thought the stench couldn’t get any worse, the cobbled walkway transitioned into a grate suspended above water. You looked down, watching as sewage and trash floated by endlessly—becoming extremely concerned when the path forward meant you’d have to wade through it.

Leon jumped in first, letting out a disgusted _bleh_ as the water splashed onto his face. “You sure this is the right way?” He spat.

“Zombies is one thing, but this-” You jumped down into the cop’s arms—giving your own disgusted _bleh_ when the sewage hit. “This is _shit_.”

“Nice.” Leon laughed, and Ada sighed.

“This is not the time for jokes-” She began to say, cut off by the rumble. It was the loudest you had heard it, the strongest you had felt it.

The two of you peered into the water, silently watching as it rocked back and forth. Leon swung his flashlight up, cautiously scanning—and then his beam was engulfed in green.

He froze, and you did too—stepping back to take in the sight of a giant alligator, the size of a bus.

“Get out of there!” Ada screamed from above, jolting both you and the cop to run. The beast snapped forward, opening its mouth and flashing its teeth—all you could smell was blood.

“Holy shit!!” Leon screamed out as the alligator bit down beside him. He stumbled from the rush of water, and you frantically grabbed his arm.

“Run!” You scampered as the reptile came crashing down again, quickly glancing up and seeing a pipe blocking your path. Its label read ‘ _warning: flammable gas’._

“Leon!” You shouted, pointing ahead.

A plan seemed to instantly form in his mind. “Slide under!” He ordered.

Without questioning, you listened—dropping down alongside the cop and letting the water carry you beneath and past the pipe. You slid down a small ramp while the monster attempted to pursue: it lunged forward, sinking its teeth deep into the gas.

“Chew on this, you overgrown son of a bitch.” Leon aimed for the pipe, landing the bullet and igniting the beast’s body. Pieces of its flesh flew with the explosion, and you ducked—just missing a chunk of tongue.

“ _Haah_!” Leon exasperated, resting his hands against his knees. He shook this head. “We just can’t catch a break.”

“I know,” you exhaled, wiping an unknown sludge from your cheek.

“Your foot- is it okay?”

“Not sure about _okay_ , but it’s working. Though, I probably caught E. Coli walking through all this crap.”

Leon chucked. “How bad is it that catching E. Coli would be the least of our worries right now?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Pretty bad.”

“Up here!” A ladder dropped down. You looked up to see Ada, the crease between her brows smoothing out as she saw you. You thankfully ascended the ladder, grateful to be on dry concrete again.

Ada immediately took on a cool tone. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You said the virus turns _people_ into monsters,” Leon resumed his position, walking ahead. “Not _reptiles_.”

She paused. “Fair point. I’m just surprised you made it in one piece.”

The shadowed path led to an elevator, and you winced when it looked even more suspicious than the last. Leon seemed to recall, mouthing a small ‘ _it’s okay’_ and ushering you in.

“So, let me get this straight.” He pressed the car’s button, leaning back as it began to move. “Umbrella sells monsters like that to who, our military? Somebody else’s?”

Ada crossed her arms. “They don’t sell the _monsters_ , they sell the viruses that _make_ them—and Annette is the one who makes those viruses.” The elevator settled, stopping with a heavy screech of metal. "Scary as that alligator was, Annette is far more dangerous.”

Leon looked thoughtful as he walked out—but he didn't get far. His steps began to slow, stopping before the door leading ahead.

“Ada,” he spun around, blocking the path. “It’s about time you told us what 'the project' is.”

She frowned. “I will, but Annette-”

“I get the feeling that if you don’t tell us now, you never will.” He retorted, unbudging.

The woman clicked her tongue, removing her sunglasses. Her eyes were beautiful and brown—and now that you could see her whole face, you realized she was gorgeous. Leon seemed to have realized the same, flinching ever so slightly at the sight.

“Other than the G-virus’ superhuman abilities, it also has the ability to reproduce.” She started. “If the G infectee believes a human to be worthy, it will implant an embryo via oral reproduction. If the genetics of the infectee and the infected are incompatible, the embryo will kill the host, but if they are compatible, the G-virus will successfully assimilate itself.”

“Assimilate?” Leon questioned, and Ada held his gaze.

“The G-virus will take over its new host, and another monster will be born.”

You thought back to internship—the saliva in your throat so thick you thought you might suffocate. “So when Umbrella requested blood samples as a part of the qualifications-”

“William was making sure your DNA was compatible with his.” She finished. "He had planned to use G on himself, sparking the creation of ‘a new world’ full of ‘superior beings'. Students belonging to 'the project' were to then be implanted within a controlled environment that Annette would oversee. They called G the _‘God-Virus_ ’.”

Leon placed a hand on your back, but you could hardly feel it. What Ada had said explained so much—why so many applicants applied and why only three were chosen. “How do you know all of this?” You whispered.

“Regardless of _how_ I know it, it’s the truth.” She unfolded her arms. “We can’t let Annette or Umbrella have the G-Virus.”

Leon looked to you and then pleadingly to Ada. “And we can’t let that monster get her.”

“We won’t.” She agreed.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps echoed from behind the door, followed by a faint whispering. Ada immediately rushed ahead, barging through and you followed after.

On the other side was a woman; her hair was pale blonde and her skin was ghost-like. She hunched over top a corpse, holding her lab coat from touching it. "Definitely William’s handiwork.” She murmured to herself.

Ada pulled her gun, aiming for the woman’s head. “Annette Birkin.” She hissed.

Leon's eyes grew big at the name. "She's who we're looking for?"

The blonde ignored the threat, refusing to tear her gaze away from the body. “Not much time. Need to dispose of it...”

“We’re here for the G-Virus.” Ada walked closer, and Annette finally reacted—a smirk curving her lips as a sneer escaped them.

“That’s not going to happen.” She replied.

“I’m warning you, Doctor.”

“Oh yeah?”

Annette reached into her coat pocket, flicking a lighter and throwing it on top of the corpse. The body instantly burst into flames—its embers distracting you from the fleeing woman.

“Stop!” Ada screamed, chasing after—halting as the sound of gunshots rang throughout the room. Just as Annette found her mark, Leon jumped—taking the bullet instead. He dropped to the floor, grasping at his shoulder as blood began to pool around it.

“You’ll never get the G-Virus!” Annette shouted with a smile across her face. She disappeared behind a dense vault door—and after it shut, the only noise you could hear was Leon’s heavy breathing.

You fell to his side, ripping off your jacket and using it to stop the bleeding.

“Go!” You shouted at Ada—angry that Leon took her bullet, angry at 'the project', angry that Annette got away. You looked down—watching as Leon's blood coated your hands in red, feeling your eyes grow hot.

"Go catch her..." Your voice broke.

Ada didn’t refuse. She began pulling medical supplies from her pockets and taking off her coat, placing them next to you.

“Use these however you need.” She muttered before running off in pursuit. “Just make sure he doesn’t die.”

 


	8. Before All This

The sound of Ada’s heels disappeared and the tears threatening to spill _did._ You pressed against the makeshift compress, shoulders quivering as the sobs consumed you. You knew that you _shouldn’t_ cry—that Leon was the one in pain and that you had to do _something_. Yet your hands shook uncontrollably against him as you tried to keep the pressure—you were scared, terrified.

But you wouldn’t let Leon die.

You quickly looked down to his face; his eyelashes softly fluttered, and his lips lightly trembled. _Leon wouldn’t be scared to save me,_ you thought, _and I-_

You cupped his cheek—delicately as if he might shatter, cautiously as if you might hurt him. He leaned into your touch in response, and you froze.

_I-_

You stopped the idea. Now wasn’t the time to be in your own head—you _couldn’t_ be in your own head.

“ _Damn it_!” You whispered to yourself, harshly rubbing your arm against your eyes. You didn't know how to treat a bullet wound, but you scrambled to remember every bit of first-aid you _did_ know: bandaging from sports med classes in high school, what you’d seen on medical documentaries, the emergency treatment course from the internship—they had taught you what to do if a beaker overheated, exploded—what to do if glass had embedded itself. You gulped.

 _That_ _would have to work._

“Okay...” You sniffled back the last remaining tears, desperately recalling everything you were taught. “Step one, check to see if the projectile went through.” You slid your hand under Leon’s shoulder, unable to feel any holes.

“The bullet’s still in there, alright.” You took a deep breath. “Step two, check if you can see the projectile.”

You tried to smoothly remove the compress, but the jacket stuck, held fast by dried blood—Leon let out a whimper as you pulled it off.

“I’m so sorry.” You apologized to the unconscious cop. “It’s gonna be okay...”

You grabbed the flashlight from his hand, shining its beam into the wound and letting out a sigh of relief. Even though you couldn’t see the bullet, you _also_ couldn’t see broken bones; the bleeding had mostly ceased, and other than grime around it, the injury looked to be a relatively clean one.

“It’s going be okay.” You repeated, this time to yourself. You quickly checked his pulse—it felt a bit weak, but good, and the temperature of his skin didn’t feel too cold, either.

You carefully reached around Leon, unstrapping his vest and removing it. Your fingers then moved to the buttons of his uniform, nimbly working to undo them and remove that too. All that was left was his undershirt, and you hesitantly ran your hands up his sides to pull the snug fabric off.

His chest was broad, sprinkled in bruises from the night. He had beauty marks and scars—some shallow, some deep. Your thumbs brushed against them and against the curves of his muscles as the shirt refused to give—the heat of his skin making you feel as if you should look away, or that you shouldn’t touch. A blush crept across your cheeks and you vigorously shook your head to get rid of it.

“God, I’m the worst…” You muttered sadly, sliding the rest of the shirt off and grabbing Ada’s supplies. “I shouldn't be thinking about that at a time like this.”

“Shouldn’t be thinking about what?” A voice murmured.

You dropped everything.

Leon’s eyes were open and his frail blue gaze was directed at you.

“Aren’t you supposed to take me to dinner before taking my clothes off?” He gave a weak grin.

You chuckled, eyes brimming with tears again. “You must be okay if you’re making stupid jokes.”

“Please don’t cry.” He reached up towards your cheek, and grunted when his shoulder stopped him. He tried to look at the wound. “Is it bad?”

You quickly wiped away your spilling tears. “I couldn’t remove the bullet, but everything else looked okay. I was about to bandage you up—you’re still bleeding a bit.”

“Thank you, I hope-” A look of guilt washed over his face. “I hope you weren’t crying too much because of me.”

“I only cried a bit.” You lied.

“But your eyes are swollen and red...”

You sighed, instantly cracking under his gaze. “I was really worried! I mean, you were shot! And you lost so much blood-”

Leon glanced to your crimson stained hands and to the crumpled jacket next to him. His features softened. “What would I do without you?”

“Get eaten by zombie dogs.” You snuffled, and he laughed.

“I guess I owe you my life.”

“You don't owe me anything.” You opened a bottle of alcohol, dabbing it on some gauze. “Let me bandage this up first.”

“This is going to hurt isn’t it-  _ahh_!” He let out a yelp of pain as you cleaned the area.

You gave a regretful grin, placing a compression bandage over the bullet hole. “Do you think you can sit while I wrap gauze?”

“I think so,” he tried to prop himself up and failed. “But you’ll have to help me.”

“I'm honestly surprised you're even conscious.” You gently took him into a hug, hands grasping at his back as you struggled to pull him up.

"Sorry I'm heavy." Leon apologized.

“It's ‘cause all the muscle-” you said earnestly, and the cop shyly cleared his throat.

He sat, leaning forward with his head resting against yours. You began wrapping the gauze, starting with his shoulder. 

“I used to work out a lot at the academy.” He admitted.

“The academy—is that where all the scars are from?”

“Mostly. Some are just from being a stupid kid, too.”

“Have any good stories?”

“I’ll try and think of one.” He shifted his head, breath brushing against your neck. You did everything you could to focus on the dress.

“I got mugged when I was 14.” He said finally.

“Seriously?!”

“I think I told you my dad was a cop,” he started. “I really looked up to him, and he made me want to be a cop too. So one day, I see this kid a few grades younger than me getting bullied by the local high schoolers.”

“You tried to stop them?” You tugged the gauze tight, and Leon let out a groan.

“Yeah, I figured I knew enough about being a cop that I could act like one. One of the high school kids had a pocket knife though,” he pulled back and gestured to a scar running down his abdomen. “I got stabbed, they stole my wallet, my watch, _and_ I got in trouble.”

His face was across from yours, so close that your noses could touch. You quickly looked down to avert your gaze, continuing to the stabilize the gauze around his torso.

“I have a feeling that this story has a good ending though?” You asked.

“It does.” He resumed leaning forward, wearily resting his head into the nook of your neck. “The kid I helped and his mother visited me after. I came to learn that the kid was suicidal, but because I had stood up for him, he began to believe in people again—that he didn’t really want to die. The look of happiness on his face, his mom's face—I knew I wanted to spend my whole life protecting people.”

You secured the gauze with a clip and flashed a smile. “That’s amazing! I bet your dad was so proud.”

“He was.” You could feel Leon smiling too. “What about you? Any good scar stories?”

“None as good as yours.” You grabbed the cop’s uniform, looking to the sleeve and to the bundle of wrapping around his arm. “I have to cut the sleeve off, I’m sorry. I don’t think it’ll fit otherwise.”

“That’s okay.” He hummed. “Really, though? No good stories?”

You grabbed Leon’s knife, sawing off the shortsleeve and wincing at the hack job you did. “I guess, maybe one.”

“Let's hear it.” His eyes lit up.

You gave a playful sigh, pulling down the collar of shirt and revealing a bite mark scarred into your clavicle.

“When I was 12, I volunteered at a dog daycare. And there was this one dog—a Chow Chow—that just _loved_ to eat other dog’s poop.” You started, and Leon’s faced twisted.

“Oh, no.” He grimaced.

“One day, he was trying to eat, well, _shit_ , and I tried to stop him—and Chow Chows are big dogs! He sorta just bowled me over and gave me a shit infused bite.”

“I'm guessing— _hoping_ that there's a good end to this story?” He asked.

“Nope." You shrugged, grinning as you reminisced. "I went to the hospital and the chow ate the rest of the poop. If people see the scar, I usually say I fought off a wolf.”

“I would say the same thing.”

“I told you my story wasn't as good as yours.”

“Well, content-wise it's just as good.” He laughed. “You like dogs?”

“I like all animals.” You beamed, and he couldn't help but to beam back.

“I bet my dog would've loved you.”

“And I bet I would've loved him.” You replied.

“I really wish I knew you before all _this_.” Leon’s tone grew serious, fists forming at his sides.

You rested his body against the wall, pulling the uniform over his arms. “Like, as kids?”

“As kids, teens, anywhere else before we ended up here.” He shook his head. “I just wonder what it would’ve been like if we had met normally.”

You began doing up the buttons of his shirt, starting at his navel.

“I think we’d be friends.” You answered and he suddenly grabbed your hand.

“You think we’d be friends?” He questioned, blue eyes piercing. He looked at you slowly, drinking in every detail of your face—meticulously reading, searching.

You spoke quietly, holding his gaze. “You don’t?”

“No,” he whispered carefully. “I think I would’ve have fallen for you.”

Your heart beat wildly out of your chest, its pulse ringing in your throat and in your ears.

“What if we met in a zombie infested city?” You forced yourself to ask.

He smiled.

“I think I would've fallen for you then, too.”


	9. One Condition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was reading all the lovely comments readers have left over the past ~half a year and felt inspired to write again (Some life stuff happened and I moved!). Here's a small chapter continuing from the massive cliffhanger I left off on (hehe whoops). I hope you enjoy! I haven't written anything since chapter 8, so I hope it's good. Please let me know if you guys are still interested :D
> 
> Also, please read junieyes's "paint me like one of them dead girls". That RE2 fic also inspired me to write again :D
> 
> * Minor changes (Sept. 29/19)

  
“But tell me something,” 

You watched as Leon inhaled and exhaled slowly, looking away for just a moment before meeting your eyes again—and then his gaze deepened.

“Is it too much to hope that you might’ve fallen for me too?” He asked.

Your breath hitched, hands no longer buttoning and instead resting against Leon’s skin. His muscles flexed beneath your fingers as he strained to sit up on his own, pressing the curves of his abdomen into your grip.

“I don’t think,” you gulped, “that it’s too much to hope for.”

He moved closer. “So you have feelings for me too?”

“Maybe.” You murmured as strands of his hair brushed along your eyelashes.

His nose lightly bumped against yours, blue eyes fixated on your lips.

You could feel his breath on your mouth as he spoke. “Maybe…?"

Leon suddenly jerked, slumping against the wall with a grunt. Your hands became sticky with blood as red soaked through his bandages. He let out a pained sigh.

“I’m sorry,” his brows creased. “I’m so lame-”

“No, _I’m_ the one who’s lame.” You interrupted, quickly grabbing supplies to clean the wound.

“What do you mean?”

“I was about to take advantage of my patient.” You grinned.

The cop chuckled, muttering a quiet _‘ow’_ as the laughter shook his shoulders. “Now that doesn’t sound lame at all.”

You stopped the bleeding and cleaned the area, adding more pressure with gauze. Your fingers nimbly buttoned his shirt, reattaching his equipment.

“If we get out of here,” Leon began to whisper.

You stopped fidgeting with the straps of his vest, watching as the cop held open his arms to you. You happily accepted, gently lowering yourself against his chest. 

“ _When_ we get out of here,” he continued. “Can I kiss you?"

“Leon-”

“When we're safe, and if you have feelings for me,” he interrupted. “Let me kiss you properly.”

You pulled away, trying to read the expression on his face. It was serious—jaw clenched and gaze pleading. 

He looked towards the burnt corpse down the hall, tightening his arms around you. “You don’t deserve _this_.”

You were enveloped in his warmth—surrounded by the subtle smell of his scent. 

“Leon,” you muttered, slowly turning and pressing your lips into the crook of his neck.

He took in a sharp breath, body tensing below you as you lingered. 

His skin felt good against your lips.

He probably would’ve tasted good against your tongue.

“Okay.” You sat up straight. ”On one condition.”

Leon’s hands ran down your back, settling on top of your hips. “And what’s that?”

“We’d better escape quickly." You grinned.

Leon smiled back.

"It's a deal."


	10. Just In Case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys sooo much for being so kind about my return. Your comments seriously make me so happy. I really hope you know how much I appreciate you! If you're enjoying this fic, thank yourself because you made the story go on.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

It didn’t take long for the natural rhythm of exploration to resume.

Leon seemed to recover quickly, leading you throughout the sewer as if he’d memorized its layout beforehand, and you followed behind, limping as usual but slowly improving.

Zombies had a knack for ruining any kind of romantic atmosphere.

It seemed like a distant dream that the rookie cop confessed his feelings to you. Some things had changed though; Leon would smile if you accidentally bumped shoulders, and he enjoyed leading you by the waist and hand more than ever.

Earlier, he had to catch you from a fall. When you landed in his arms, his hand accidentally brushed against your chest.

_“Sorry!” He gasped, nearly dropping you into the sewage water._

_“I know you didn’t mean to, it’s okay.” You laughed it off._

_“But-”_

_“It’s okay. Assuming we’re making it out of this city alive, you’ll be touching them one day anyways, right?” You joked._

Leon’s face turned red—even redder than when he saw you without a shirt. He couldn’t look at you without blushing for at least five minutes.

It was cute. Leon was cute.

But when _this_ was all over, you wouldn't mind seeing the sultry Leon that almost kissed you earlier.

“Hey,” Leon nudged you, pulling you from your thoughts. “Looks like another drop.”

You gave him a nudge back. “Should I prepare myself for any touchy-feely this time?”

The cop scoffed, a smirk playing across his lips. “Not unless you ask politely.”

 _Oh._ You weren’t expecting that.

“Come on,” he jumped down from the ledge, arms open. “We need to figure out where Ada went. Or did you have other things on your mind?”

Maybe Leon wasn’t as _cute_ as you thought.

 

 

 

The room you jumped into was brightly lit. Complex consoles lined the entire right side, and a large window lined the left. The room looked safe from a glance, but the snarl of zombies rang out above the soft buzz of machinery.

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Leon frowned.

“Me either.” You cautiously walked towards the window, peering out the dirty glass.

You squinted, making out piles of trash—rubble and concrete mostly—but something else caught your eye.

“Isn’t that…” Your voice trailed off as you began to recognize a slumped body in the dust.

“Ada.” Leon said firmly as he saw the same black haired woman as you. He quickly looked up, eyes locked on the only door visible through the glass—white lettering reading  _'waste_ _disposal._ ’

The cop spun back, taking only a moment to examine the room before finding a map. “It’s not far from here.” He remarked and you knew what he meant.

_We have to save her._

Leon wasn’t the kind of person to leave someone helpless. He saved you, a stranger, from a random cabinet—gave you his clothes and protected you all the way up until this point.

“Well then,” you grinned, one foot already out the door. “What are we waiting for?”

You regretted sounding so confident.

Somehow the sewers were even worse than the precinct.

Giant masses of flesh roamed the tunnels, bloodied and rotten, with arms that would attempt to grab. From a document you found you learned that they were called _‘G-Type Adults’_ , the failed form of the G-Virus. You thought back to what Ada had said about the Virus—how if the G embryo was incompatible with its host it would kill them. You never even thought that the ‘embryos’ would become one of _these._

With enough firepower, however, G-Type Adults were relatively easy to dispose. You and Leon continued forward with a few more close-calls than you would’ve liked, finding chess-piece styled electric plugs to open the waste disposal room.

And luckily, it didn’t take long to find them all.

“The knight should be beside the rook...” Leon scurried around the chess-piece contraption, muttering to himself.

You leaned against a nearby table, resting your foot while the cop worked away. “Do you know how to play chess?” You asked.

“You might not believe it,” A smile flashed across his face. “But I used to be president of the chess club in high school.”

You gasped. “ _No."_

“Wow, you don’t have to act so surprised.” He laughed while you crossed your arms.

“It just seems a bit unfair that you’re good looking _and_ smart.”

“Good looking?” Leon inserted the last piece. “Thank you.”

The door whirred to life—its vault-like mechanisms spinning and releasing until the giant slab of metal unlatched and opened. A narrow hallway was uncovered; its small set of stairs leading towards a crimson lit pathway.

You slowly walked down each step, gun drawn how Leon taught you. “If we had to work so hard to open this door, she should be safe, right?”

“I sure hope so.” He turned the corner first, becoming engulfed in the red light.

His flashlight revealed giants pipes, then vents, piles of trash, and finally a door with the words _‘waste disposal.’_ He cautiously edged towards it, examining the lever beside—and then pulling.

“Damn it,” he sighed when nothing happened. “Need the power on first.”

You tried examining the door. “Were there any switches near the chess puzzle?”

“I’ll go check.” The cop started to jog away, and then jogged back.

“Leon?” You questioned.

He reached forward, lightly pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Don't miss me too much.” He whispered with a grin.

A small embarrassed giggle escaped your lips as you watched him run off.

"Geez," you muttered shyly, holding your cheek and dreamily stumbling back against the door. “But I miss you already.”

“... injured … ba-... plan…”

You paused.

“He see- … easy to manipulate …”

Your body tensed at the muffled voice from beyond the metal.

“I’ll m- … kill him after…”

You pressed your ear against the door.

“He won’t be… a problem…”

“Can you hear anything? Is she okay?” Leon called as he jogged back.

You quickly pulled away, trying to process what you had just heard. You opened your mouth to speak.

“Leon are you there!? It's Ada!” The voice screamed before you could say anything.

“Hold on!” The cop yelled back. “We’re here to rescue you!”

“ _We_? That girl’s still alive?”

"What? Of course she is." Leon raised a brow.

“Whatever. Just listen,” Her voice grew stronger. “The two of you will need to split up to open this door. Leon, did you see those consoles in the previous room? You need to go back there.”

“But I was just there-”

“Go back.” Ada sighed. “And _you_ …” She hesitated for a moment.

“Did you forget my name already?” You laughed awkwardly, a bad feeling washing over you.

“There’s a room behind here. In the back right corner are switches. I need you to flip the second, third and fourth—the room is safe, I cleared it beforehand. A prompt will open on Leon’s console when you flip them.”

Leon frowned, leaning in close to whisper. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you.”

“Please hurry!” Ada cried out. “There’s a shard of metal lodged into my thigh. I need to get it out—I’ve lost too much blood already.”

“She said she cleared it, it’ll be alright.” You whispered back, giving the cop a small nod.

“Okay, just-” He began pulling equipment from his belt. “Take these just in case.”

He handed over a knife and a grenade, placing them in your hands.

"I'll be okay." You put them in your pockets.

“But just in case-”

“I’ll hold on to them for you.” You grinned, spinning the cop around and pushing him towards the console room. “Now, go!”

You watched as he stalked off, unable to stop thinking about the muffled voice. Was it really Ada talking? Talking about manipulating and killing someone? It was easy to imagine the worst meaning of the words—but you tried not to. The woman already saved you twice before.

Maybe you heard wrong, you thought.

When the cop finally disappeared from sight, you began making your way, too. Finding the room Ada spoke of wasn't hard; It was just a few steps further than the waste disposal. You couldn't help but notice the dark window outside the room—it was impossible to see anything past its glossy black void. You tried to look in, giving up when all you could see was your haggard reflection staring back.

The bad feeling from earlier had manifested itself into the core of your stomach as you pried open the heavy door, only growing as the door shut loudly behind you. Much to your surprise though, the hall's crimson light lit the room in red. You could see perfectly out the window.

"Just quickly flip the switches and get out of here…" you mumbled to yourself as you looked around.

It was exactly as Ada had said. You found four switches in the back right corner, and you hurried to flick on the second, third, and fourth.

In an instant, the hum of machinery filled the room—red light disappearing and replaced with green.

The bad feeling deepened.

"That's weird." You slowly walked back to the door. "Leon must've just entered the prompt really fast."

You tried the handle.

It wouldn’t open.

You tried again.

It refused to budge.

"No, no, no!" You muttered frantically as you exerted more strength against the door.

You gazed up through the window, seeing Leon pull the waste disposal handle and seeing Ada crawl out.

"Leon! Help!" You screamed at the top of your lungs.

His head didn’t turn.  He couldn't hear you.

He looked worried as he glanced around. You could see him panic, his lips mouthing _'where is she?’_ and _‘where’d she go?’_

Ada mouthed _‘over there.'_

And then you watched as she pointed down the hall—her finger leading Leon in the opposite direction.


	11. A Trail Of Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Your comments literally mean the world to me and inspire me to keep writing. I am so glad you're enjoying the story! <3

_This was bad._

You tried shouting and banging on the glass but nothing seemed to grab Leon’s attention.

You started to question whether or not you even went into the right room. Perhaps flipping the switches did nothing at all and Leon was the one who unlocked the waste disposal.

 _Yeah,_ you thought to yourself. Once they went to the room you were _supposed_ to be in and noticed that you were _missing_ , they’d come explore this area some more and save you.

But then you watched Leon help Ada up.

As he hoisted her onto his back and began to walk away, her arms circled around his neck. She nestled against him, looking towards the room you were locked in—lips curled into a smile.

You felt like throwing up when you saw her on him.

You felt like throwing up when you realized Leon was in danger.

 _This was really bad._ You had to hurry.

From a glance, there were two exits: the door you came in and a doorway guarded by heavy shutters. You tried the door’s handle again—it was still locked—and when you tried to pry open the metal shutter, it wouldn’t move an inch. Breaking the window started to seem like the only way out.

You tried throwing whatever you could find at it—tools, bricks, scraps of garbage—but all merely bounced off. You began considering using the grenade Leon gave you, but you knew you’d probably lose a limb in the process. The last thing you could think of was shooting the glass, and that’d take one of your precious remaining bullets.

Regardless, you had to try.

You readied yourself—legs shoulder width apart, arms straight but not locked, and aim on the window.

“If this doesn’t work, I’m fucked.” You mumbled, and then you pulled the trigger.

A massive claw shot forth through the ceiling, crumbling concrete and knocking the gun from your hand. The bullet missed the window, ricocheting off into machinery—but it didn’t matter, the monster had already swung again, grabbing you by your hair and pulling you from the room.

You acted quickly, grabbing the knife Leon gave you and cutting the strands. Hair rained down as you fell hard against the floor—and when the claw attempted to swing again, you were just barely out of reach.

You tried to drag yourself from the center of the room, struggling as a burning pain began to take over your side and spread throughout your torso. You kept your head down, slowly reaching towards the throbbing and you let out a gasp when your fingers felt the stickiness of blood. 

_This was really, really bad._

You managed to pull yourself up against a wall, trying not to look at the puddle of crimson you’d left behind. A giant gash had cut along your side and up your abdomen—it was impossible to tell where the wound began and ended through all the blood. You bunched up your t-shirt, using it to try and stop the bleeding—but it wasn’t working.

Suddenly, a deafening growl rang out. It echoed across the room, reverberating across the concrete—you forced yourself to stand when the shutter began to shake.

A dent distorted the metal, and then another and another.

Claws pierced through the shutter, pulling the it from the hinges and tossing it aside as if its weight meant nothing at all. When the dust fell, you recognized the monster blocking the doorway.

It was Birkin. Although you weren’t sure if it was _Birkin_ anymore.

He was bigger than the last time you saw him. Birkin’s face now protruded from the chest, and a new, animalistic head had taken over. Other than his face, all of the scientist’s body was gone—replaced by masses of muscle and flesh, with enormous claws extending from the right arm.

The giant eye on his shoulder stared at you, pus weeping with every blink.

_If Ada was telling the truth, then Birkin would try to-_

You screamed as the claws swung forward with no warning, barely managing to dodge his grab. You ducked under his arm, limping out the doorway as fast as your injuries would allow.

_The reason why Birkin has always tried to grab you is-_

“He’s trying to implant an embryo...” You panted, stopping at a seemingly dead end.

You hadn’t even noticed the rain, or that you were outside, but you looked up taking in the sight of the sky. The moon illuminated your surroundings—a construction zone on a platform with edges that dropped off into a seemingly endless abyss. A crane held up a crate in the middle of the terrace, and you tried to hide behind it.

You felt sick to your stomach—skin slick with sweat and mouth full of bile. You didn’t know how you were standing; you thought you knew how deep the gash was, but you were wrong—it was worse, much worse.

Red continued to seep from your wound and Birkin had followed the trail, rounding the corner, beady yellow eyes hunting. You stumbled backwards as he walked closer, cautiously taking steps until you pressed up against a metal box. You braced yourself, using the box to hold your weight—and then your hand sunk down, accidentally pressing a button.

The sound of machines began to stir, and a siren blared from the distance. Yellow light spun from the metal box, and then entire pathway began to shake.

The crane moved, pulling the container from the platform. It winded back, and before you could process what had happened, the crane revolved—slamming the industrial sized box into Birkin’s body.

The collision rang out like a crack of thunder. That was the last thing you clearly remembered.

Blood spilt from your mouth as you coughed—suffocated you as it filled your nose and throat. You crumbled to the ground, barely able to make out Birkin fighting off the crate through blurry vision.

You didn’t know if he fell off the edge or not. Static was all you could hear and your eyes refused to stay open any longer.

 _Leon._ You wanted to say his name before dying— _that’s what was happening, right?_

The ground was hard and cold, and pain had paralyzed your whole body.

Dying felt a lot worse than you thought it would. Somehow you always imagined dying of old age—that you would just slip away in the middle of the night, and not because some bitch trapped you in a room.

"Leon," You muttered.

_You were supposed to survive together._

 

 

 

 

 

“... Interesting…”

A bright light filled your vision.

“Eyes are clear, no signs of turning.”

You felt a sharp pinch on your arm.

“Possible innate resistance? Has to be...”

You quickly opened your eyes, gasping in a heavy breath and grabbing your side. You frantically looked down—there was no cut, no bleeding, but there was still claw marks in your shirt-

“You need to calm down.” Hands pushed you back into a lying position. A woman hovered over you, hair pale blonde and skin ghost like.

“Annette?” You asked.

She didn’t respond but you recognized her. Annette’s fingers furiously typed into her keyboard, attention focused on the screen. She looked worse than the last time you saw her; purple bags had settled under her eyes and she was completely covered in blood.

“It’s _your_ blood.” She said as if she’d read your thoughts.

You slowly sat up this time, taking in the small room you were in. It looked like a lab; equipment and papers were scattered across the counters, while cardboard boxes littered everywhere else. A trail of red led from the door to where you sat, and when you moved over, the bed beneath you was soaked as well.

“How am I alive?” You questioned aloud.

Annette paused, fingers hovering over the keys. “That’s a good question.”


	12. Innate Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all lovely people. Thank you for continuing to read this fic <3  
> I love hearing your thoughts, and where you think the story is going. I get so excited reading them! Thank you so much!

“You’re telling me that she took the cable car without us?”

“Yes. I told her to go through that door and press the switches.”

“But I didn’t hear anything about taking a _cable car._ ”

“Won’t you just trust me?”

“Honestly,” the cop let out a sigh. “I don’t know if I should."

Leon felt tense under Ada’s weight. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about you and where you had disappeared to. 

It felt like just minutes ago that he held you in his arms and promised to escape together. He believed that you wouldn't leave him behind—that you needed him just as much as he needed you. 

 _Something_ wasn't adding up.

“I’ve saved you twice and _this_ is the thanks I get?” She hissed.

Leon sighed again, louder this time. He had never been known for his patience, especially when it came to someone he cared about.

“Look,” he tried to control the tone of his voice. “I’m grateful for your help. But I _know_ her—I know she wouldn’t go that far ahead without me. I’m going back.” 

He crouched, beginning to pull her arms from around his neck, but her grip grew tighter, refusing to let go.

“Fine." She groaned. "It’s not like I can go anywhere with this leg—just make it quick.”

Leon scoffed.

“I’m telling you though, she went on the cable car-”

He didn’t bother to reply. He’d stopped listening.

The way Ada pressed against his back felt wrong—Ada felt _wrong._ She knew too much, her timing was always too perfect. Whatever her agenda was seemed more important than the fate of Raccoon City itself. So, why was she wasting time hanging out with ‘ _kids_ ’?

He walked back to the waste disposal thinking about the answer like a game of Chess. 

If her _goal_ meant _checkmate_ , then did she consider you and him as _pawns_?

He opened the door, green light and the stench of garbage welcoming him back. He could feel Ada’s breathing stop just for a moment—after looking up, he understood why.

“What the hell?” The cop muttered, taking in the sight of crumbled concrete. He quickly let Ada down, running over with a flashlight and gun in hand. He stepped over the rubble, opening what was left of the door—and then his heart dropped.

“No,” he whispered.

Leon had never felt like _this_ before—the pure fear and sickness that made his knees weak and lungs stop working. 

He didn’t feel this scared when he saw humans eating each other, or when he had been shot. 

Yet, he had to force himself to process the stain of blood smeared on the ground. He had to force himself to look at the clumps of hair scattered across the floor.

It was your hair color.

It was probably your blood.

_Deep breath in._

He scanned the room, finding your gun hidden under trash and claw marks on a heap of metal. The blood was still wet—trailing out the doorway. 

You were nowhere to be found. 

_Deep breath out._

“ _Fuck!"_  Leon swore, punching a nearby console. He knew punching it wouldn’t change the fact that he left you alone—that it wouldn’t reverse whatever terrible thing happened to you here. But he punched it again, hoping his knuckles would hurt as much as the guilt stung.

The machine stuttered from the impact, spitting out a few clunking noises before silencing completely.

He watched quietly as the green light outside faded to red—and then it suddenly dawned on him why he didn't think to check out this room before, why he didn't think you were here.

“Oh,” Ada gasped when she limped over the rubble. “What happened here?”

“You don’t know?” Leon asked, standing upright and circling the room. 

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Leon pointed to the dented console in the back right corner of the room—to the second, third and fourth switches flipped on. He drew his gun.

“Start talking.”

 

 

\---

 

 

“Have you ever heard of innate resistance before?” Annette asked, eyes focused on the screen of her computer. 

“Not really,” you admitted.

“It’s when your body is naturally resistant to a virus—due to mutations, or alterations in the genome.” She tapped on her keyboard a few times, bringing up a model of a cell. “Essentially, it is immunity.”

She clicked on her mouse, letting a video play. 

“Normally viruses work by attaching themselves to a cell. They inject deconstructed versions of their DNA inside, assemble within the cell, and then lyse the cell—explode it—letting newly formed copies of the virus into the body to repeat the cycle.”

The video showed what she talked about as she explained it, and then she pulled up another video.

“Viruses all work differently,” she continued. “In the case of the G-Virus, the DNA that is injected into the cell has special properties—advanced healing, faster muscle movement, a plethora of benefits, really.”

You furrowed your brows. “Then why do people turn into monsters when the DNA isn’t compatible?”

“When incompatible, the G-Virus’ DNA takes over the host cell, transforming it into a mass of mutations—an abomination.”

She clicked on her mouse again.

“In extremely rare cases, the G-Virus’ DNA can enhance the host’s—providing them with the benefits of the virus without the virus taking control.”

The video began like before, showing how the virus injects its DNA—but the cell didn’t explode this time. The walls of its membrane seemed to thicken, and the cell danced energetically around the field of vision.

“This is a model of _your_ DNA.” Annette said finally, nodding towards a microscope connected to her computer.

You looked to the vial of blood on the counter, and to the freshly prepared slides drying. These weren't _videos_ she was showing you—they were real time projections.

“ _You_ are an extremely rare case,” she grabbed your hand. “With DNA so perfectly compatible with G that you’re immune.”

“What?” Your mouth felt dry. “You’re saying that I’ve been infected with the G-Virus?” 

Without blinking, Annette grabbed a knife and sliced your hand open. 

“What the fuck?!” You screamed, pulling back.

“Look.” She gestured.

“Like I’m going to fucking listen to you-”

“Just look.”

You scowled, reluctantly unclenching your hand. 

There was no blood, no cut.

There was no trace.

“The effect is even stronger than I would’ve imagined.” The scientist mumbled, grabbing a pen and madly scribbling notes into a piece of paper.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away—you had felt the pain of the knife, heard the ripping of skin, but it was as if the cut didn’t happen at all. 

“So then, if I’m infected,” you managed to say. “Did Birkin implant an embryo?”

“He tried.” She continued taking notes, no hint of emotion in her features. “Also, it’s not like you’re infected. You have _immunity_.”

“He tried?”

Annette sighed, blowing a strand of hair from her face. “You would’ve died if William didn’t implant one. Because of your innate resistance the embryo itself likely died—or ran away—God only knows. What’s important is that you’ve gained G’s powers.”

You looked down to your side—to the claw marks in your shirt, to the blood on the bed. To the lack of scars and to your healed foot.

You felt fine. 

You felt _good._

The pale blonde woman crossed her legs, leaning over and looking into your eyes. 

"You," she whispered. “You’re what William was _supposed_ to be.”


End file.
